


Remembrance

by ShayneyL



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Caldik Prime, M/M, Post-Endgame
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-24
Updated: 2019-08-24
Packaged: 2020-09-25 02:31:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20369188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShayneyL/pseuds/ShayneyL
Summary: Tom visits the grave of one of the officers who died at Caldik Prime.





	Remembrance

**Author's Note:**

> Writer's Month 2019, Day 23. The prompt is "death."

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ: *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

"You don't have to wait," Tom said. Even though he knew Harry would. He always did.

"I don't mind," Harry replied. He went over to a nearby bench. "Take as long as you need." 

Tom wandered among the graves, scanning the names and dates. Most of them showed long lifespans, typical of the Federation these days. But the one he was heading for was tragically short. There it was. Calista Garcia, 2336–2362.

He put the flower he had brought down on the grave. "I'm so sorry, Cali," he whispered. "You know if I could switch places with you, I would." 

Though he addressed her, he meant all three of the officers he killed at Caldik Prime. She was the only one who had a grave to visit. Ven Wolde had been cremated, his ashes scattered at sea on his distant homeworld. Marissa Skomal had gotten a space burial, as specified in her will. 

He wondered how his life would have gone if he hadn't been so reckless at Caldik Prime. He suspected it might have actually been worse for him personally. He would never have become a Maquis, gone to prison, joined _Voyager_, and spent seven years in the Delta Quadrant. Which meant he would never have met Harry Kim. He glanced back to where he had left his husband. Harry was still sitting patiently on the bench, as if he would be perfectly happy to sit there forever. 

Tom knew he was a very lucky man. But he would give it all up, even Harry, if it mean Cali, Ven, and Marissa could have the lives they should have had. 

Finally, he turned to leave...to find someone standing behind him, watching him warily. A small, older woman. "You," she said, apparently recognizing him. "It's you. I was wondering who was leaving the long-stemmed white roses, cultivated, not replicated."

Harry had noticed, and was standing, ready to come to Tom's defense, if necessary. Tom made a small gesture, telling him to stand down. "I'm sorry," he told the woman. He didn't recognize her...and yet, he did. She was a smaller, older, grayer Cali. Cali's mother, he suspected. "I didn't mean to..."

"Kill her?" the woman asked.

Tom shut his eyes for a long moment. "I was going to say 'bother you,' but yes, that, too."

"Just tell me one thing. Why? Why did you do it? Why did my daughter have to die?"

Tom had had over fifteen years to think about it, and still didn't know what to say. Because he had been just 24, a very immature 24, and didn't understand how precious life was, and how fragile. Because he felt such pressure to live up to the family name, to be extraordinary, to be noticed. Because his father would have disapproved, which was reason enough to do something back then.

"Because I was a fool," was all he could come up with. "A thoughtless fool. She should be here, not me, and I remember that every day."

Cali's mother stared at him silently, her pale eyes seeming to look straight through him.

"I'm sorry," Tom repeated. "I'll stop leaving flowers if that's what you want."

"She didn't particularly like flowers. Not a flowery kind of girl."

Tom had remembered that, actually. She had been active, athletic, not one for flowers or other fussiness. He just didn't know what else to bring. 

"She liked dogs," the woman said.

"Heidi," Tom said. Cali's dog. A friendly German shepherd. He remembered.

"She told you about Heidi." 

Tom nodded. "We both loved dogs. I used to take care of Heidi for her sometimes."

"Well, then. If you really want to honor her memory, don't bring her flowers. Volunteer at a dog rescue." She stepped around Tom, going to her daughter's grave. She might as well have said, "Dismissed."

Tom walked back to where he'd left Harry. "What happened? Are you all right? Who was that?"

"I'm fine," Tom said. "Come on." He took Harry's hand, and headed toward the transport station.

"Where are we going?"

"We're going to volunteer at a dog rescue." 


End file.
